Harry Potter: The Marked Man
by CassieRose
Summary: Continued from OotP (warning:spoilers). Harry gets another mark, a werewolf fights for his rights, an unexpected turn to darkness, a 6th year murderer, and a walk among the dead. Does anyone have any faith left? CHAPTER 3 UP, R&R!-- DONE W UPDATES!
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1:   
  
I don't own Harry Potter... if I did book 5 wouldn't have ended the way it did. O_o  
  
Read, Review, and Enjoy!  
  
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The sun crept in through the windows of Number Four Privet Drive as a teenage boy grabbed a pillow to shield his tired eyes from the bright rays. He spent the next few minutes trying to fall back asleep. After realizing his attempts were hopeless, he rolled to his side and put his glasses carefully in place. His black hair fell sloppily to his eyes and he pushed it out of the way, his hands brushing the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.   
  
"12:45?!" Harry muttered to himself, stunned. He looked out his window again, amazed that the Dursleys would let him sleep this long. He quickly threw some clothes on and surveyed himself in the mirror for a moment. A week ago, Aunt Petunia had forced him to go shopping with her and Dudley. Though Harry thought at the time it was because they didn't want to leave him with their precious belongings, he was soon to find out it was to buy him clothing. He became appalled as his Aunt, whom had showed him no kindness in years, held clothes up to him, muttering to herself words that Harry couldn't make out. She thrust the heavy bag into Harry's arms after she had paid for them, and didn't mind the shocked tone as he said his thanks. She had said no more to him that day other than to not mention it to his Uncle.  
  
Harry took a deep breath as he shut his wardrobe and quietly walked down the stairs. The atmosphere of the Dursley's had been most peculiar for the past month. Ever since Mad-Eye Moody had spoken to Uncle Vernon, Harry had noticed that his Uncle had allowed him to do things he hadn't dared even dream of. Harry was able to eat as much as he liked and his Uncle made no sign of disturbance when Harry's school friend Hermione had called.  
  
Harry thought back to Hermione and wondered what she'd say if she knew he hadn't even looked at his OWL scores yet. His birthday was well over a week ago and yet all his birthday presents, along with his OWL scores, sat unopened under his bed. He wrote to his friends every three days, so nobody would get the impression he was mistreated with his only living family left, but he never responded to any of the questions he was asked. He didn't know why, but for the first time in his life he wanted to escape from the world he had grown to know over the past 6 years. Because of this, he only briefly read his friends letters, and spoke distant to them when they called. The more he distanced himself, the less he would miss them.  
  
"Hello," Harry muttered upon entering the kitchen. He saw a glass of milk on the counter top that looked untouched, and took a small sip before the glass was knocked out of his hands. He felt two hands on his shoulders and he was pushed back into the counter.  
  
"Harry," he heard a soft, familiar voice say, and he gasped realizing the kitchen was full of witches and wizards. His stomach did a flip as he saw the faces of Nymphadora Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Mundungus Fletcher, and many others, including the person right infront of him holding onto his shoulders, Remus Lupin.  
  
"What?" Harry asked as Lupin let go of him. Unlike the last time he was with these people in his kitchen, they were all wearing serious faces of concern and fear, rather then a warm welcoming.  
  
"Tonks, you go get all of Harry's belongings and bring them down here at once. Fletcher, collect a bit of the milk in this," Moody said, giving Fletcher a small glass vial. He then pulled out another small container and Harry recognized it as floo powder. He threw a bit into the flames and gave Harry a nudge to go through. Harry did without any questions.  
  
"St. Mungo's Poison ward," Lupin mumbled and Harry repeated him before lost in a whirl of wind and ashes.  
  
He stepped out of the fire absentmindedly brushing ashes off of himself as his eyes fell upon his Uncle Vernon, who was asleep on a hospital bed, his face pale with a green tinge. He walked over to his Uncle, not aware of other people around him, but distantly hearing another body come from the fire. He stared at his Uncle for a few minutes, questions and theories forming in his head fast enough to give him a migraine. It wasn't until he heard his Aunt's voice that he realized Aunt Petunia and Dudley were right across from him.  
  
"I never thought I'd be back here," she muttered, giving Dudley a small hug. Harry looked at his Aunt in question.  
  
"You were here before?" His Aunt's eyes widened in horror and she gave her husband a pat on the arm.  
  
"Well, the Healer said he'll be released tomorrow, Mrs. Dursley," Tonks said and Harry saw she looked a lot more relaxed then she did in the house. She then turned to Harry, "Your Uncle was poisoned. We don't know how or why ... but it wasn't a normal poison, Harry. It was made from a potion that is very popular among those studying the Dark Arts."  
  
"What are you talking about? They'd have to get inside the house..."  
  
"Your milk is delivered, Harry. We're guessing it was snuck in the unattended glasses. That's why I knocked it out of your hands back at your house," Tonks replied.  
  
"But I did take a sip, and nothing is wrong with me," Harry said as silence fell among everybody for a moment. The next second, though, Harry found himself hauled into a vacant bed next to his uncle, Moody removing the jacket from Harry's arms, and two Healers were rushed inside and started giving him odd tests involving a bright red liquid being put into Harry's ear. He shuddered as it felt like his head was full of boiling water. Though his head was so warm, his arms were freezing and he wished Moody wouldn't have removed his jacket, as the T-shirt wasn't helping his ice-cold arms. He didn't ponder on this long, because suddenly he felt as if he had lost all control over his thoughts, feeling as though he was floating. This went on for over a minute, as he watched the faces around him swim in and out of focus, as though he was watching a bad television program. He was brought back just as suddenly by a knife-sharp pain on his left forearm. He screamed out loud trying to grab his left arm with his right hand, but his right hand would burn every time it became too close. He started rolling around in agony, tears of pain staring to form.  
  
He heard the spectators gasp, Lupin held Harry's shoulders down so he wouldn't move. Harry raised his head enough to see where the continuing pain was coming from. He stared at his left forearm, and his eyes widened in horror. At first he thought it was the red potion that was slowly dripping down his arm, but he soon realized it was his own blood. As though an invisible hand was drawing upon Harry's own skin with a knife, imprinted on his flesh was a serpent and a skull. For the second time, Harry had become marked.  
  
*****  
  
"Shh!" Harry heard someone hiss into the darkness. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself in the company of what seemed to be part of the Weasley family. He reached out a hand to his bedside table to find his glasses, but an elderly Healer was already placing them on his head and forcing him to drink a bright red potion. The room became sharper and Harry realized it wasn't dark at all, the sun was shining in brightly through the windows.  
  
"Harry, dear, how are you?" Mrs. Weasley asked him, smoothing out his bed sheets a bit. He looked around and saw Fred, George, and Ginny all standing there looking half asleep and nervous. "I'll go find Hermione and Ron, they both had just gone to the gift shop." A few minutes of silence passed and the red headed siblings looked around at each other, obviously uncomfortable.  
  
"You should've seen Dumbledore," one of the identical faces muttered. "He came with the news as soon as he heard. He was outraged. George nearly cried, he looked so angry."  
  
"I think you're mistaking me for Ron," the other twin said under his breath. "But all the same, he looked as mad as he did that day the dementors interrupted Quidditch..."  
  
"It's not a big surprise," Harry said clearly and all three stared at him. "I mean, it's not exactly a secret that people want me dead." Silence fell over the room until Ron and Hermione had entered followed closely by Mrs. Weasley. Harry turned to her, "Where is my Uncle?"  
  
"He was released this morning and now he's back at his home, resting. Him and your cousin Dudley had their memories altered, they think that he just got sick from spoiled milk. They'll remember nothing about the poison, don't worry, dear."  
  
"What about the mark..." Harry said slowly, remembering the Dark Mark he now had imprinted on his forearm. Mrs. Weasley responded with a confused look.  
  
"What mark?" Ron asked. He had taken the seat next to Mrs. Weasley. Harry looked around at everyone and saw none of them knew what he was talking about. He suddenly felt his stomach drop. What would they say if he told them he had the sign of a death eater imprinted into his flesh?   
  
Luckily he was spared from explaining, as Lupin had entered the room. "Awake, Harry? Good. We should probably get going now, anyway." Harry jumped out of his bed, wanting to leave. His legs felt horribly stiff as he realized he'd spent near 24 hours asleep.  
  
As the rest of the Weasleys piled out, Hermione and Ron stayed behind while Harry put on his sweatshirt. "How long have you guys been at Grimmauld Place then?" Harry muttered bitterly as they left the room. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other.  
  
"We're not," Hermione said cautiously, clearing her throat. "I was vacationing in South America when Fawkes showed up with a message and I came back immediately with him... and Ron has been staying at the Burrow."  
  
"So we'll all be going now?"   
  
"Hermione's coming to stay at the Burrow with us... I don't know when we're going to Grimmauld place," Ron said as they stopped where the other Weasleys stood waiting.  
  
"Why can't I go back to the Burrow?" Harry asked, confused.  
  
"We don't know, Harry. Really! We tried getting it out of the adults but they won't tell us anything, " Hermione told him fearfully. It was obvious that she was afraid he would be angry. He nodded, his insides twisting. He didn't want to go to Grimmauld place at all, especially if his two best friends wouldn't be with him. The next minute he was being hugged by Mrs. Weasley, telling him that they'd all see him soon. He nodded good-bye and stepped out of St. Mungos with Lupin.  
  
*****  
  
"Harry," Lupin said, holding the front door open for him. "I know this is the last place you want to be ... but it's very important that you are here. You'll find out in a moment..."  
  
Harry couldn't help but notice how the rooms were sparkling. "Wow, has Kreacher finally decided to work?" he muttered under his breath, immediately regretting his words. He wanted to personally rip off Kreacher's head and stick it on the wall with the other house elves who had previously served the House of Black.  
  
Lupin led the way to the kitchen where Harry saw Mad-Eye, Tonks, Mr. Weasley and his eldest son Bill, sitting, obviously awaiting his arrival.  
  
"Harry, sit down, there's something we need to discuss with you," Tonks said in a tone that sounded anything but normal.  
  
"Well, Potter, I'm not one to beat around the bush," Mad-Eye said in his usual hoarse voice, "this is yours."  
  
"Er... what is mine?" Harry asked, looking around at the adults.  
  
"Grimmauld Place," Mad-Eye responded. Harry looked at him, not knowing what he was talking about.  
  
"As you were Sirius's Godson, all of his possessions are left with you. The manor and servant will be yours. Sirius's gold has been transfered to your own vault, and all other belongings of his are yours," Mr. Weasley said, attempting a smile. Harry sat, stunned, waiting for somebody to admit they were joking.  
  
"I don't want them," Harry said, looking down at the table. He had not yet discussed Sirius's death with anybody. He suddenly felt a longing to be back in his room at the Dursleys, isolated.  
  
"You have to take it, Harry," Bill said, "if you don't, Kreacher has no master and can spread the Order's secrets."  
  
"Why should I care about the Order?" Harry said offensively. "I'm not old enough to be in the Order, and I've escaped him four times now, not including killing Salazar Slytherin's basilisk."  
  
"You should care about the Order because if the Order is successful you won't have to face him again," Mad-Eye groaned.  
  
"Sorry," Harry replied, not sorry in the slightest, "but when it takes 15 years to find out why you don't have parents, you kind of start to lose some faith in things," he muttered.  
  
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said softly, "You have to trust Dumbledore. We all know he has a different way of doing things, but you really have to have faith in him. He knows what he's doing."  
  
"Potter," Tonks said, taking a piece of rolled parchment from her bag, "the will. You need to sign it for the house." Harry nodded, not thoroughly convinced.  
  
"Here," Lupin said, pushing the parchment at Harry. As soon as Harry's hand touched it he found it magically unrolling. "It's addressed to you, It's enchanted so only your eyes are able to read it." He nodded as he stared down at the parchment that looked as if it had just been written.  
  
"Harry,  
  
When entering the Order of the Phoenix the second time around, Dumbledore advised it'd be best to have our will updated, as a precaution. I, of course, could not run off in the public talking about legal documents, therefore it was decided I'd write a version of it myself. If anything is ever to happen to me, I leave everything I own in your possession. Sorry, Harry, but this means Grimmauld Place which includes Kreacher and my dear old Mum. Hope you can get rid of them both.  
  
If the letter ends here, wait until your 17th birthday before looking again. Everything will be answered.  
  
Love,  
  
Sirius"  
  
Harry looked up at the crowded table, and Tonks pushed a quill and ink towards him. Harry dipped the point in the emerald green ink and signed his name under Sirius's signature. He looked at it sadly for a moment, then rolled the parchment back up, and put it down on the table that now belonged to him. He frowned, his heart dropping as he looked around the house. The house Sirius had hated was now his own. 


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2:   
  
I don't own Harry Potter... if I did book 5 wouldn't have ended the way it did. O_o  
  
Read, Review, and Enjoy!  
  
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Harry sat staring at the parchment he had just signed long after the room emptied. As he finally decided to rise from the kitchen chair, he felt as if he had just signed his life away.  
  
"You," Harry muttered as he saw the elder house elf standing in the doorway.   
  
"Oh hello new master, sir, Godson of the filth," Kreacher said, taking a deep bow. Harry had a strong desire to kick him, but took a deep breath instead.  
  
"Yes. As your new master, I order you never to leave this house no matter what I say. You are never to leave this house under any circumstances," Harry said and the elf bowed again.  
  
"Yes, master," the elf said in a monotone voice. Harry defied the urge to strangle him by going up to the room he shared with Ron the previous summer. He wished Ron wasn't at the Burrow. Why should Harry be forced to stay in this filthy house without anyone to talk to but Kreacher? His stomach twisted as he realized this was Sirius's life only months ago. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's grandfather and former Hogwart's headmaster. He knew that Dumbledore had spied on Harry through means of Phineas the previous year. Harry looked bitterly around the room, his eyes falling on Ron's vacant bed. He rummaged through his trunk and finally emerged minutes later with some tacks. He took a bed sheet and pinned it to the wall on either side of Phinneas's portrait, so the sheet completely covered it.  
  
"Hey, now," Phineas called out, his voice muffled. "I can't see anything!"  
  
"Oh," Harry said, holding back a mischievous laugh that was threatening to escape. "Is that all?"  
  
"Professor Dumbledore said you don't have to remove this, though the occupant of the portrait feels it's necessary, but it's about time you opened your O.W.L scores!" the portrait called out a minute later. Harry stared at the sheet but didn't get a chance to answer as two identical redheads had just apparated into the room.  
  
"Hello, Harry," one of them said taking a seat. "We were just at a meeting," he cleared his throat importantly, "you know, with the Order."  
  
"So ... are you in the Order now?" Harry asked sarcastically after a moments silence. They obviously had wanted a response.  
  
"Yes, we are," the other said, "we get a lot of customers, and Dumbledore thought it'd be best if we were in the Order, to report any rumors, and everyone knows Fred and I are superb at eavesdropping."  
  
"Anyway, Mum just came here to make dinner for you and was surprised to see Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, those rebels, had appeared by means of floo powder seconds later. So go downstairs, they're all getting yelled at. Should be fun to watch. Oh, and Dumbledore sent Fawkes with a message to take down the sheet," they both disapperated. Harry looked gloomily at the sheet but didn't take it down. He didn't want to go downstairs to see everybody. He wasn't hungry, he didn't want to socialize. Instead he reached in his trunk and found his O.W.L scores. Tonks must've put them in there when getting his belongings from Privet Drive.   
  
He took a deep breath and unfolded the paper. As his eyes scanned over the paper, he saw that he had done absolutely horrible in Astronomy, and he cringed as he saw his Divination grade. On the other hand, he did very well in Charms, Transfiguration, and Care of Magical Creatures, which he thought made up for his bad History of Magic grade. His heart swelled as he saw he did "Outstanding" in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it plummeted when he saw he received an "Exceeds Expectations" in Potions.  
  
He turned the paper over looking for a "JUST KIDDING, POTTER," but as he knew Snape had no sense of humor, he crumpled up the paper and threw it towards the door, which had just opened. Ron caught his grades. Hermione snatched the paper out of his hands.  
  
"Nine O.W.Ls Harry! That's terrific!" She said happily. "Oh! Look -- we'll have Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Defense together!" A frown came upon her   
  
Ron looked at the paper and a weird look came upon his face, "We will still have Divination though. Everyone gets in Divination. Trelawny doesn't look at the test scores, remember?"  
  
Hermione frowned as her eyes scanned the paper again, "Harry... you got Exceeds Expectations in Potions..." He nodded grimly, "Well... that means you won't have Snape anymore..." She tried to cheer him up.  
  
"Yes..." he said. He wanted to say more but there seemed to be a heavy feeling in his stomach. He only needed an Outstanding to get into Potions... if only he tried a little harder... the chances of being an Auror were now completley gone. Hermione's frown became more prominent as she looked at Harry, but Ron didn't seem to notice anything.  
  
The three headed down to the kitchen for dinner and saw Moody, Tonks, Lupin, Ginny, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley around the table, Mrs. Weasley at the stove, cooking. They all greeted him as he took his seat. Minutes later, a feast was before them and everybody was helping themselves to food and picking up conversations as they filled both their mouths and stomachs.  
  
"Potter," Moody said while chewing on some turkey. Harry tried not to look to closely at him, he didn't seem to want to close his mouth while eating. "I've got you a gift," he said, reaching into his cloak and pulling out a badly wrapped package. Harry raised his eyebrows and Moody nodded, motioning him to open it. Harry did and inside he found a small flask with an attachment that looked as if it was to fit on your belt loop.   
  
"A hip flask?" Tonks said, leaning in and eyeing the object. "Moody you've got to be kidding!" She said, laughing.  
  
"The boy was poisoned!" Moody growled, taking a long swig from his own. "It comes in useful when people are trying to kill you," he said, winking at Harry, who was bewildered.  
  
"Er... thanks," Harry said, nodding and putting it to the side. He didn't say much more and felt more comfortable listening to conversations rather than joining in.   
  
Only about five minutes into dinner, Lupin had excused himself and walked out of the room. Nobody but Harry had seemed to ponder on this. Lupin hadn't said a word the whole night and looked as depressed as Harry felt. He had decided to not think about it anymore, when the discussion turned to the Order. Harry felt sick listening to the subject, and he started feeling spasms in his left forearm. He checked the place where the dark mark was. He had avoided it for the entire day, but it felt as if the skin was twitching. Harry examined it under the table and saw that it looked more like a scar than the authentic mark that he had seen on Snape. It was bright red and looked more like deep gashes sketched into the shapes of a skull and serpent.  
  
When the discussion died down a bit and everyone realized Harry was staring at his arm, he became even more uncomfortable and excused himself. He climbed the stairs, rubbing his forearm absentmindedly, wondering where Lupin had gone off to. This was answered as he heard a rustling of papers and a soft thud coming from the room Harry was staying in. He burst in the room and strode over to Lupin, who was sitting on the floor next to a box.  
  
"Explain this," Harry said, thrusting his forearm into Lupin's eyesight. He stared at it and shook his head.  
  
"I can't," he started slowly, "because I have no idea."  
  
"What? What do you mean you have no idea?" Harry snapped, shocked. Lupin put down the picture and he saw it was of the four marauders, all smiling and looking younger than Harry did.  
  
"Professor Snape analyzed the milk. He said it was a poison frequently used on enemies of those supporting Dark Arts, but there is no reported case of the Dark Mark actually appearing, not even your uncle got the mark," Lupin said, sighing. "I don't know anything. How long it'll stay, if it's permanent, what it means. I don't know, Harry. I have no idea."  
  
Harry sighed, thrusting his hands in his pocket. He wanted an answer. Lupin cleared some pictures off the floor and a spot appeared big enough for Harry to sit down. He did.  
  
"Where'd you find these pictures?" Harry mumbled, picking a large stack up. The one on top was of his father and mother, smiling proudly at him. He recognized Head Boy and Head Girl pins sitting perfectly on the front of their robes.  
  
"After we all left Hogwarts, Sirius's mother died and Audrey, Lily, James, Sirius, Peter, and I used this house whenever we were in the area. Sirius hated it but it was an easy place to meet in." Harry nodded and continued looking at the pictures. He stopped as he came across one that looked like one he had seen loads of times before. But looking at it more carefully, he realized he had never seen this one before. It was a wedding picture, but instead of the two beaming people in the middle being his parents, it was Sirius and a woman Harry had never seen before.  
  
"Sirius was ... married?" Harry said, choking on his own words a bit. Lupin nodded grimly.  
  
"That's Audrey," he said, pointing to the smiling woman. She had brown hair in perfect ringlets that fell past her shoulders. She had a pretty smile, and large, innocent-looking eyes. She kept on looking up at Sirius and smiling happily.   
  
"What happened to her?" Harry asked. It was quite obvious she must have died if he had never heard of her, but it still came as a shock.   
  
"Her name was Audrey Rockwood before she married Sirius," Lupin started, and Harry noticed he looked even more depressed. "Her father is a deatheater, managed not to be put in Azkaban and was working with the ministry up until a few months ago. He's now finally in Azkaban for leaking Ministry secrets to other deatheaters. Her father killed her ... it was right after she married, too."  
  
"Why'd he kill his own daughter?"  
  
"Because he knew who she was married to. Sirius Black was always known as ungreatful and foolish to the supporters of Dark Arts. Him and your father made sure it was publicly known that they despised the Dark Arts. Audrey's father knew this, and was horrified that his daughter had married somebody like that ... so he killed her."  
  
"And he wasn't caught?"  
  
"He said he was under the imperius curse. That was a lie. He didn't even show up at his own daughter's wedding. Sirius was out of control after it happened. He was terrifying. He was never good at controlling his emotions. He was grieving on the inside, but he refused to show that. He became a maniac. He personally felt the responsibility to destroy the dark forces. He caught Audrey's father but the ministry liked him too much to put him into Azkaban. Sirius was outraged that he personally started conflicts with the deatheaters, put about ten in Azkaban, did permanent damage to a couple others. That's when Dumbledore started the Order of the Phoenix ... so Sirius would calm down. It worked, Sirius gave his life to the Order, and then was falsely accused as murdering your parents," Lupin took a deep breath, now also staring down at the picture of the wedding. "Do you know what the veil is Harry?"  
  
"Well, I'm guessing it's a portal between life and death..." He started slowly. He had been thinking about it every night since it happened. "I just don't understand it..."  
  
"Nobody does," Lupin said, giving the smallest of laughs. "That's why it's in the Department of Mysteries. Nobody is sure what it is. All they know is that if a living person enters, they will die.   
  
Harry felt red-hot anger spreading through his body. Sirius had never mentioned a word that he had been married. But that's not why he was mad. He was angry because he never got a chance to ask Sirius. Him and Sirius had never had a conversation that would bring up the topic of a wife. They never had the chance.  
  
******  
  
Harry was walking down the stairs to the kitchen only minutes later. He couldn't stand the realization that all he had of his parents and Godfather were pictures. Photographs in their happiest moments, not realizing the fate that they'd be receiving. As he walked gloomily to the kitchen he glared at the walls around him, hating everything about his surroundings.  
  
As he entered the kitchen he hears Ron's voice, angry, followed by his mothers yelling.  
  
"Ronald Weasley you will not stay here!" she shrieked. Harry slipped in the room and took a seat next to Hermione, who glanced at him and put a finger to her lips to silence him.  
  
"I'm staying because it's dark, depressing, and disgusting and Harry should NOT be forced to stay here!" he roared back, "Home of Kreacher, the filthy little..."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione interrupted him. Harry glared at her.  
  
"Don't you even START on rights for house elves. Don't even dare, Hermione Granger. I don't want to hear it. Kreacher is a murderer! How can you..."  
  
"I wasn't going to!" she hissed back, as though they were whispering to each other, even though the whole room had heard Harry's outburst. "Ron shouldn't be swearing if he wants to get his way. Ginny and I want to stay here as well! It's not right that you'll have to be here alone!" Harry silently agreed at her, but didn't say anything. Instead, Ginny spoke.  
  
"We all hate Kreacher, Harry. Honestly. I was just saying I'd like nothing better than to throw his head in a fire so he doesn't get his wish of being next to his mother," she said in a mischievous voice. Harry couldn't help but grin at her. She was acting more like Fred and George every time he saw her. "But, Harry, I would never dream of throwing his head in a fire. You're his owner, I think that should be your honor..."  
  
"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked angrily at her youngest child. Ginny just shrugged. "FINE! All of you can go get your things... I'll light a fire for you. But don't be blaming me when you all will be shut in your rooms the whole time! the Order isn't going to let you hear them..."  
  
"But you were willing to shut Harry in here!" Ron yelled angrily.  
  
"And we don't need to go get our stuff, thank you. We brought it along with!" Ginny said, leaving the room with Ron following, still fuming. Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards the two of them.  
  
"Thank you for the dinner, Mrs. Weasley ... and thank you for letting us stay ... and thank you for..." Hermione started and Mrs. Weasley nodded putting a hand up for her to stop. Hermione stole a glance from Harry before going to catch up with the others. Harry was just getting up to follow when Mrs. Weasley stopped him.  
  
"Harry, it's not as if Dumbledore wanted to lock you up..." she started, but her voice trailed off.  
  
"Thank you for the dinner," he said, not even the slightest convinced as he left the room.  
  
"You'll find out later..." she called out quietly after him. Harry pretended not to hear her as he left to catch up with the others.  
  
(a/n: what do you think? I promise it gets more exciting!) 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3:   
  
Read, Review, and Enjoy!  
  
(a/n: I think I'm finally done with complete updating ... sorry it was such a mess for a while there. I'm in college now and updates will be scarce but I'll try hard to get some more chapters up! And just to clear this up before questions arise: this is NOT going to be a pity me Draco story...I said in a previous chapter that there were ship-hints in the chapter 2, but I ended up taking them out, so there ended up being none. I do want to add some lovin' but not sure at the moment how or who... a little undecided at the moment. )  
  
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Mrs. Weasley was still in a bad mood by the time the book lists had arrived the next morning.  
  
"Mum, can we go to Diagon Alley with you? We haven't been there in ages... I want to see the twins new shop..." Ginny pleaded with her mother over breakfast. Mrs. Weasley shook her head while looking very obviously in Harry's directions.  
  
"I can stay here," Harry muttered, "Really ... they want to go," he said gloomily. He didn't want to inflict changes in other people's lives more than he had to.  
  
"No, dear, that's quite all right, because none of us are going," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. The previous night she had sent them all to bed hours earlier than she normally would have, and when Ron went to talk to Ginny and Hermione he was yelled at for about an hour. Harry was happy to be alone for that time, even though the shrieks were disturbingly loud.  
  
It was a quiet breakfast followed by an even quieter day. Hermione locked herself in the bedroom she was staying in to read, Ginny sulked around complaining about nothing to do, Ron napping on the sofa, and Harry had locked himself back in his room, trying to ignore the emotions that kept dragging him down. This went on until around lunch time when Mrs. Weasley called them all into the kitchen. Upon entering, Harry saw others would be joining them to eat. Sitting at the table looking rather tired were Tonks and Mundungus Fletcher.  
  
"Hello Harry," Tonks said to him. Her hair was straight, to her waist, and midnight blue today. Dung had very bloodshot eyes and kept shaking himself every few seconds, but inclined his head in greeting.  
  
"Tonks and Mundungus are escorting us to Diagon Alley. We are strictly going for books and school necessities then coming straight back here for a while, all right?" Mrs. Weasley said, still looking rather stern.  
  
"What do you mean, back here for a while? Aren't we staying? Mum we aren't going to le-" Ron abruptly stopped talking at a glare from his mother. Harry didn't blame him in the slightest, if he had received a look like that, he wouldn't have continued his sentence either.  
  
"We wouldn't be going if it wasn't for Tonks having to go to London today. And Mundungus has some rubbish down at Diagon Alley to collect," Mrs. Weasley said hollowly. Mundungus sat up straighter.  
  
"Pardon me, Molly, but it's a very good business opposition."  
  
"Yes, yes," Mrs. Weasley said in a hurried, off voice, "Whatever you say, Fletcher. Now floo powder is the easiest way to go. Luckily the twins shop has a fire..."  
  
"I'll meet you by the fire, send Harry along first, then the others. Come once they are gone," Tonks said and with a loud crack she was gone. Harry couldn't help but think this was an awful lot of unnecessary planning to simply travel by floo powder. Nonetheless, he obeyed and went first into the fire.  
  
Harry was amazed by the twin's shop. Though they were rushed out of there by Mrs. Weasley who was tutting at the chaos, Harry and the others couldn't believe all the people.   
  
Diagon Alley was depressing, Harry thought as they wandered out into the street. It seemed as though the bookshop and Fred and George's store were the only places that had any customers. Even the main road was deserted. In the windows of the empty shops there were warnings of the Death Eaters who escaped before Voldemort was announced back by the Ministry of Magic. Next to each of the escaped convicts sheets were lists of wanted Death Eaters. On top of eerie silence in Diagon Alley, Mrs. Weasley was defiantly in the worst state Harry had ever seen her. While she would bustle the others inside a shop, she herself would stay near the door with her hand clutched in her robes as though she expected she would need to hex anyone who walked in through the door. Once inside a shop, Tonks, having previously collected money from everyone's vaults, would tell the store assistant exactly what everyone needed and in a matter of seconds they would be leaving to go to the next shop.  
  
"Okay, well I think we are done with our shopping, we'll just get a drink in the Leaky Cauldron and be on our way," Mrs. Weasley said only an hour later, and Harry was glad to see she finally looked as though she was breathing again. Just as Harry was about to step inside, he felt a hard nudge in his ribs. He turned to Hermoine, annoyed, when he saw what the nudge was about.  
  
"Look at him..." Hermione whispered in an odd voice. It took a moment for Harry to realize the tone was pity. Draco Malfoy walked straight past them without even glancing in their direction, but it was hardly the Malfoy that Harry remembered. His usual sleek backed hair was now long and messy, his robes wrinkled and frail. Ron interrupted Harry's mental comparison by snorting.  
  
"His mum and him are devastated by Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment. I don't see his father getting off anytime soon. That's why Tonks is in London, you know, she's being called as a witness. With her, Kingsley, and Moody all presenting their case against him... I don't see how anyone expects him to get off. Kingsley is a top auror and Fudge has always trusted him. Moody, well, they think he's a bit insane, you know, but he's defiantly brilliant and Tonks has been pretty well-respected herself..." Ron said in an undertone so the none of the adults would hear their topic of conversation.  
  
"Fred and George left some extendable ears for us to use, and I heard Mum talking to Bill about Azkaban. Dumbledore himself sealed some very heavy charms on the prison, and though it's not as depressing as it was when dementors were there ... it's really annoying for the Death Eaters locked up," Ginny started with a small smile. "They thought it'd be an easy escape but they're getting angry enough to start strangling each other. Plus, I heard Dad talking to Charlie and he reckons that you-know-who isn't looking to rescue them right away. You-know-who thinks that it's the Death Eater's stupidity that revealed him. Of course, this can't be too good because now he has recruits and nobody has the slightest idea who they are..." Ginny piped in a very gossip-like fashion. Ron gaped at her.   
  
"How come you don't let me in on any of this?" His question wasn't answered though, because as there drinks came, greetings were being exchanged with Remus Lupin, who had arrived and was seated before the four even had noticed.   
  
"Remus Lupin?" said a voice from a table nearby. A middle-aged man with sandy blonde hair who was sitting alone drinking from a smoking goblet was turned in his chair looking directly at Lupin. Harry exchanged a confused look with Ron, but Lupin seemed to know who he was as he stood up to greet the man.  
  
"That man..." Hermione said, her eyes closed tight in concentration. "We've seen him before..." Moments later they were introduced to the man whose name was Eric Baltrox. Hermione was still quiet as the man sat down to join them with his smoking goblet. Harry couldn't help but thinking he looked vaguely familiar as well.  
  
*****  
  
A half an hour later and Harry was back in his room at Grimmauld Place, staring miserably at the sheet covering Sirius's great great grandfather Nigellus.  
  
"The fact that you feel pain like this is your greatest strength..." Dumbledore said distantly in his memories.  
  
He felt the anger sweep over him as if it were yesterday. Greatest strength? Pain made him weak. If anyone saw the pain and hurt he had inside. . .if he didn't plaster on a fake smile. . .pain is weakness. Pain is life. Defeat or be defeated.  
  
Hours later, a knock at the door disrupted his thoughts. He blinked heavily and looked at the door, Mr. Weasley's face appearing in the small opening.   
  
"Harry, your Aunt would like to talk to you in the kitchen," Mr. Weasley said before disappearing. Harry distantly heard footsteps going downstairs and shook his head. His Aunt? He only had one Aunt. Aunt Petunia. Maybe Mr. Weasley was becoming insane? As he stood up and crossed the room, he wondered if he had a long lost Aunt or if Snape had been slipping things into the food at Grimmauld Place.  
  
Upon entering the kitchen, though, Harry saw it himself. Horse-faced, bony, blonde Aunt Petunia was sitting alone at the kitchen table. . .the kitchen completely deserted. Was this a trick? Harry remembered the fake Mad-Eye and on instinct, gripped his wand from inside his pocket as he sat down at the other end of the table. Minutes passed, Harry staring blankly at her, holding tightly to his wand, and Petunia holding her nose high in the air looking around the kitchen in disgust.  
  
"I didn't want to come here," she said simply. Instead of waiting for him to answer, which he mentally told himself he wouldn't talk to her at all, she continued, "I'm here because I have to be. Don't even get the idea that I wanted to come here."  
  
"You don't have to be here," Harry said hastily, forgetting his promise to himself not to talk. Though she had been considerably kinder in the past year, he didn't forget the 14 previous years, which in his opinion, outweighed the slight kindness by far.  
  
"I didn't hate your mother you know," she said, ignoring his statement and emphasizing the word 'hate.' "We had a rivalry, yes, but I didn't despise her. Vernon did. He despised your kind, as you know already. When I married him your mother took it personal. She was invited to the wedding, I don't see the fuss. But when she married that man months later ... we weren't invited. And that is when we stopped talking."  
  
Harry couldn't understand after years of ignoring that she had a sibling, she would be telling him their situation. Either way, he didn't want to hear it. He never knew his mother.  
  
"Years afterwards," she continued, "we both had our own children, our own lives. A man showed up at our door when Dudley and you were around a year old. Short pudgy man, rat-face. He asked if I knew where Lily was. Of course I didn't! I hadn't spoken to her in years at this point, and Vernon and I didn't speak of her at all. A few weeks later, she died."  
  
Harry felt his heart quicken at this story. Peter Pettigrew had showed up at the Dursley's? Now, more than ever, the two separate worlds had meshed together seamlessly. He could no longer see where the smuggle world ended and the magic world began.  
  
"I still don't see why you have to show up at Grimmauld Place," he muttered bitterly.  
  
"Grim-old place did you call this dump? Yes, well that suits it," she said, looking around the room again. "I enjoyed seeing Lily showing her magic...I suppose that was before they were banned on holidays. I never despised magic until my parents were killed...by the same person who killed my sister."  
  
"What? Voldemort killed your...my grandparents? Why?" Harry gaped.  
  
"In her last year of school, over the holidays. I had just finished having tea at a friends house on Christmas Day. walking home I distantly saw this bright skull floating above my house...I wasn't even let inside to see the remains..." Petunia sniffed lightly, her bony hands pressed together. "Albus Dumbledore was there, and explained that he didn't know why my parents were victims."  
  
"So. Voldemort has taken your family and mine," he said quietly, more to himself than to her.  
  
"Harry," Petunia began, her voice now sharp again. Harry's head snapped in her direction. He couldn't remember the last time she had even said his name. "The headmaster of your school says you should come back home."  
  
"Home?" Harry asked suspiciously. Since when had she ever referred to Number 4 Privet Drive as his home as well as her own?   
  
"He has already explained to you the importance of blood that runs with both you and I. He has told me the more time you spend at home the safer things will be."  
  
Harry nodded, his hand now sweating from the tight grip on his wand, he stood up and followed her to the fire, where Mr. Weasley stood with a pot of floo powder. 


End file.
